I’m not sure she’s ready for anything remotely romantic. The thought makes an ache pulse in my chest.
My feelings for Serena are growing at breakneck speed. It’s overwhelming. Every minute I spend in her presence makes me feel like she’s the woman for me. Like if I ever let her slip through my fingers, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Like she can make me feel whole again, when my whole life has been one long exercise in losing the people I love most.
I watch as she scrunches product into her hair and then wraps it in a soft, clean T-shirt she grabs from one of the bathroom cupboards. Did she put that in there? She plops the whole thing on top of her head, tying it up in a practiced motion so that all her hair is piled high underneath the cotton top. I frown as she meets my eye in the mirror.
Serena grins. “Curly hair is complicated. It takes a lot of work to look this effortless.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”
Her cheeks flush, and for the hundredth time, I wonder how often her ex-boyfriend complimented her. Did he ever tell her he liked her hair? Did he ever tell her how beautiful she was?
My instinct says no, and I vow to never do that to her. Serena needs to know just how incredible she is, how much she makes my heart thump, and how much she gives me hope for a future I never thought I’d have.
But as we go to our respective rooms to get dressed, I glance at my phone. Robbie’s name flashes on the screen, and a wave of shame and betrayal washes over me.
Robbie: How’s my sister settling in? She’s not telling me much.
I cringe. I need to talk to him. Tell him what I feel for her. Let him know it’s serious—or at least, I want it to be.
I glance at my closed door and wonder if Serena feels the same way. We’ve gone from zero to a hundred in a couple of weeks, and I don’t know if she feels as overwhelmed as I do.
As much as I hate to even think it, we might have to slow down. We’re both untangling complicated pasts and just trying to figure out what we want. What if we’re just leaning on each other while we heal? What if this isn’t as real as it seems?
What if Robbie doesn’t approve, and I have to choose between the only person I’ve been able to trust for the past few months and the woman who makes my heart thump?
I drop my chin to my chest, sighing. I need to speak to Robbie before Serena and I take things any further.
Kit: She seems good. Happy.
It’s a non-answer. I’m skirting the issue, and I’m not really answering his question. I put my phone face down on my dresser and finish putting my clothes on, vowing to speak to him as soon as I see him at work in three days’ time.
20
Serena
Kit and I spend the night in his bed. I expect him to take things further than we did on the couch, but he just wraps his arms around me and falls asleep. The alarm bells that always trill in my head when a man is near quiet down enough for me to relax, but I still feel vaguely afraid. My feelings are mushrooming beyond my control. I’m vulnerable.
What if he hurts me? What if he wants too much from me?
I’m not sure I have enough strength to be in a relationship. I don’t even know what a real relationship feels like.
As if he can sense my unease, Kit shifts in his sleep and drags me into his body, my back hitting his chest as he pulls me close. The fear inside me lessens and I let my body relax into his and drift off to sleep in his arms. Safe. Warm. Happy.
When I wake up, I know three days with Kit is too short—especially when he tells me that he wants to take things slow until he talks to Robbie.
My bottom lip juts out in a pout. “Am I just some possession that you have to ask permission to use? I don’t like the implication of you needing to talk to my brother.”
Kit shakes his head, running his hands over my arms. We’re standing in the kitchen, the coffee machine gurgling in the corner.
“It’s not about asking permission. It’s